


peaches and cream

by 10softbot



Series: twenty biteen kink fest [14]
Category: NCT (Band), WAYV
Genre: Face-Sitting, Frottage, M/M, Overstimulation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-10
Updated: 2019-12-10
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:29:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21747562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/10softbot/pseuds/10softbot
Summary: Sicheng has a really hard time to believe any of this is real—that Ten teasing his hole with the tip of his tongue is just supposed to happen in any timeline he could ever possibly live in.  Yet here they are—Ten pushing his ass down on his face, licking him until Sicheng digs his nails into his thighs andwhines.
Relationships: Dong Si Cheng | WinWin/Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten
Series: twenty biteen kink fest [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1252142
Comments: 9
Kudos: 239





	peaches and cream

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lowkeyamen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lowkeyamen/gifts).



> first of all: happy birthday kenzo!!! for the 39th time!!! congrats on getting old, please take care of your decaying bones!!!  
> slot fill for facesitting and overstimulation. this fic isn't any food, i apologize in advance!!
> 
> don't repost or translate without permission or else i am legally allowed to murder you

Sicheng should have known better than to trust Ten when he walked into his room at ass hour of the night. 

There is something about Ten, though, that has him unable to say no, has him weak on the knees and his heart beating a little bit faster. Johnny—the idiot—had simply stated over the breakfast table that that’s what attraction to Ten feels like—like you’re slowly losing your grip on reality and yourself. 

He would know. Sicheng doesn’t think he can ever forget the one terrible night he walked in on them getting each other off against the kitchen counter. 

Sharing an apartment with them is a nightmare, but he would never pass up on the offer of cheaper housing. 

“Ten,” Sicheng whispers, though there is no need for him to be whispering– the door is closed, and this is _his_ room. “What are you doing?” 

Ten slips into his bed without answering, making himself comfortable next to Sicheng. Sicheng frowns but makes room for him, groaning when Ten’s cold feet presses against his shins. “Just want some company.” 

“Go to Johnny’s, then.” 

“Don’t be so mean,” Ten snuggles closer, burying his face on Sicheng’s shoulder. Sicheng feels like he can’t breathe, like his heart will stop beating any second now. 

Silence stretches for too long and, when Sicheng looks down, Ten staring right back up at him. 

“What?” 

“Is it true?” Ten asks, licking his lips. 

Sicheng frowns. “What?” 

“What Johnny said,” Ten supplies. His eyes travel down to Sicheng’s lips. “Is it true?” 

“You heard that?” there is a glint in Ten’s eyes, a grin on his lips– he's going to fucking kill Johnny. “Yeah, it– I guess it is.” 

Ten moves until their lips almost brush—Sicheng can’t breathe. “Is it okay if I do this, then?” 

Sicheng doesn’t have time to process the implications of that question before Ten is closing the gap between them, slotting their lips together. His head spins and his heart races, blood boiling in his veins when he realizes how warm Ten’s lips is against his. 

There isn’t much to it at first– just a press of their lips and nothing else. But, again, Sicheng should have known better– should have known that Ten would lick across his bottom lip with the first gasp he let out, would gingerly lick into his mouth and turn him into mush. 

“Tell me if I’m crossing a line,” Ten mumbles against his lips, licking the corner of his mouth. Sicheng sighs, opens up and licks into Ten’s mouth this time, trying to ignore the way his skin buzzes when Ten lets out the faintest moan. 

Sicheng thinks, for a moment, that he must be dreaming. Though it feels far too real, there is no fucking way Ten is lying in _his_ bed and kissing _his_ mouth. There is just no way this ridiculous crush he has had on his roommate and friend for months is somehow mutual. There is just no way. 

But then Ten is pushing a leg between his, pressing his thigh against his crotch and Sicheng knows the moan he lets out is way too real for this to be a dream. Ten cradles his face, deepens the kiss and Sicheng’s head spins as his tongue glides against his. 

“Ten—” he whines, breathy, hips twitching as he grinds down on Ten’s thigh, heat pooling in his stomach and electricity zipping up his spine. He can feel his fingertips tingle, his dick straining in his boxers and pajama bottoms, precum beading at the head and wetting the fabric. 

“Hey,” Ten croaks out, blinking up at Sicheng. Sicheng pants, breathless, heat thudding in his ribcage with how shiny Ten’s lips are, how red they look. “We don’t need to do anything tonight, okay?” 

Sicheng nods, nosing Ten’s cheek. “Okay.” 

“Just let me make you feel good.” 

_You always do,_ Sicheng wants to say. Ten makes him feel good with the way he gently knocks on his door every morning and coaxes him out of sleep for breakfast, with the way he gives him space when he needs it the most, the way he always manages to order his favorite pizza for takeout. It’s the neck rub when he gets home and Sicheng is hunched over the dinner table with all his paperwork, as well as the occasional texts whenever Sicheng is out of town. 

He doesn’t say any of that. Instead, he groans when Ten pushes his leg further up, harder against his crotch and his back bows with the pressure. It feels so good, and if Ten isn’t going to stop it, then he doesn’t find it in him to stop himself from grinding down on his thigh. 

“You sound so beautiful,” Ten murmurs, lips pressed against his jaw, tongue lapping at the skin. Sicheng groans in response, unable to form words, his brain going absolutely haywire. “Wish I could hear you moaning my name.” 

Sicheng whines—it’s ridiculous and kind of embarrassing, but he pushes it to the back of his mind the tighter the coiling in his stomach gets. He reaches up for Ten’s face, brings him into a bruising kiss if only to have Ten swallow all his noises—in hopes Johnny won’t hear them. 

“Fuck,” he curses, and then again, “fuck, Ten. _Fuck_. I think—I think I’m gonna come—” 

Ten brings a hand down to the front of his pajamas, presses the heel of his hand on his dick and Sicheng can feel his eyes welling up, muscles tensing. He doesn’t know whether to push back against Ten’s hand or grind down on his thigh, his own thighs starting to shake as waves of pleasure runs through his body. 

“I would love it if you did,” Ten’s voice is barely a whisper, and it nearly sends Sicheng into cardiac arrest. “I would really fucking love it if you came because of me.” 

“Please— ‘m so close.” 

It doesn’t even take him a minute for his orgasm to hit him. His hands fly to Ten’s shoulder, nails digging into his skin so hard Ten hisses with the sting. He comes in his underwear, Ten’s hand pressed hard against his cockhead, and he feels his entire body flush with the thought that Ten can definitely feel cum soak through the fabric. 

His chest is heaving and fingertips tingling, trembling where they press into Ten’s skin. Ten laughs—giggles, really, and he sounds so distant Sicheng can’t tell if it’s Ten or himself. Ten reaches up, brushes his hair away from his forehead; Sicheng can’t bring himself to open his eyes, to stare into Ten’s eyes, shame sitting heavy in his guts. 

Ten presses a light kiss against his lips, one to the apple of his cheek, the tip of his nose and his closed lids. He waits until Sicheng’s chest isn’t heaving and his heart isn’t racing, until his body releases all the built-up tension. 

“Are you okay?” Ten moves his leg away, touch gentle as he runs a hand down his face and to his neck, thumbing over his jaw. Sicheng hums, licking his lips nervously. “Hey, look at me.” Sicheng is reluctant but eventually does, staring at Ten’s eyebrows instead of his eyes; he watches as they furrow. “Are you embarrassed?” 

“I mean—” his throat is dry, and he has to force his words out. “I am, yeah.” 

“Why?” 

“I’m—sticky,” Sicheng offers, helplessly. He tries to break away from Ten’s hold. “Can I—is the bathroom free?” 

Ten holds him in place for a little longer, not wanting to let go. Sicheng feels like the room is closing in on him. “Unless Johnny is taking a shower at—two in the morning, it should be.” 

“Okay I’m—going to run the shower then.” 

Sicheng doesn’t give Ten enough time to reply; he is off his bed in one second, and out of the door and into the hallway the very next. The way the fabric of his underwear sticks to his dick is uncomfortable and he barely waits until the bathroom door clicks shut behind him before sliding it down his legs. 

He takes a cold shower and several minutes to recover from the entire situation. He doesn’t want to think about the implications of this – doesn’t want to think about the fact that Ten had been listening to Johnny rant on and on about his stupid ass crush, about how he just sat there and silently _agreed_ to everything Johnny had said. 

Sicheng lets the water wash his embarrassment away. He makes a detour to the laundry room to throw his soiled clothes into the washing machine, making sure to schedule a double wash before he goes back into his room. The apartment is dark, and he struggles to navigate through it, brain foggy when he bumps into a chair and nearly walks into a wall. 

When he walks back into his room, Ten is no longer there. 

Sicheng absolutely despises taking work home, but sometimes he can’t really help it. He especially hates it when it happens on Friday nights—like today. His back hurts from sitting by their dinner table for so long, bad posture absolutely killing him, but there isn’t much he can do about it. At least the apartment is quiet. 

He doesn’t register the front door clicking shut. He only notices he has company when he hears footsteps right behind him and suddenly there is a hand on his neck, rubbing some of the tension away. He can’t help the sigh that leaves his lips, the pencil in his hand slipping and rolling over the table, out of reach. 

“You’re stressed,” Ten’s voice is almost quiet, his hand gentle. 

Sicheng hums, head hanging between his shoulders. “I have five reports due Monday and I am barely through the first one,” he hates how tired he sounds. “Of course I’m stressed.” 

Ten peels his hand away, pulls out Sicheng’s chair and turns it around until Sicheng is facing him. Ten’s smile is gentle, but his eyes are anything but. “Let me help you relax.” 

“Ten,” Sicheng gives him a hard look, though he can already feel his cheeks heating up. “I really need to get this done.” 

“And you will,” Ten taps his cheek lightly. “You’ll work better once you’re not so stressed.” 

The thing is that it has been almost a week since the—thing in his bedroom happened and they haven’t talked about it; in fact, Sicheng has done everything in his power to steer clear from Ten’s path, going to great lengths to be out of the house early in the morning and come back – and lock his bedroom door – long after Ten was back. 

It’s not that he regrets it– he's really just so fucking embarrassed. 

“I would really like it if you said yes,” Ten is unrelenting, “but if you’re not consenting then I will be on my way.” 

“Listen,” Sicheng holds onto Ten’s wrist, “I—I want to, that’s not the problem.” He swallows around the lump in his throat. “You already know how I feel, I just—I really have a lot of work.” 

He watches as Ten glances over the table, over his papers, and then looks back down at him. Sicheng watches as Ten gets on his knees, between his legs, hands splayed over his thighs. He feels a shiver run down his spine. “I’ll help you. If you let me help you relax, I’ll also help you with the reports. How does that sound?” 

Sicheng bites the insides of his cheeks, considering. Then, with a click of his tongue, “alright.” 

Ten holds him by the hand when he gets back up on his feet and walks towards his own room, only letting go when he gets to the door and needs to push it open. Ten’s room is the cleanest out of the three of them, being the clean freak that he is. 

“You sure you wanna do this in your bed?” Sicheng asks, eyeing Ten’s pristine bed. Ten snorts, turning on his heels to look back at him. 

“Do you wanna know how many times I’ve gotten cum on my sheets?” 

“I really don’t—” 

“I wouldn’t be able to tell you,” the shit-eating grin on his face is insufferable. “Though, I can guarantee I do not mind getting yours on them.” 

Sicheng scrunches his nose. “You’re so fucking gross.” 

“Good,” he says with a shrug. “It makes for a fun time in bed for all parts involved. Are you gonna undress or do you want me to do that for you?” 

Sicheng feels hot around the collar of his shirt, his cheeks ablaze as he undoes the strings of his sweats and slides them down his legs. He watches—trying not to stare—as Ten steps out of his clothes, far more gracious than he himself could ever be. Ten s stripped down to his boxers before Sicheng can even think of grabbing the hem of his shirt. 

Ten does it for him; there is no ceremony with the way he grabs the hem of Sicheng's shirt and pulls it up his torso and over his head, or the way he brings his hands down his chest, touch feather-like. Sicheng truly feels like he might die at some point during the night—doesn’t know if his heart is well-equipped to deal with everything that Ten is. 

“I’m glad you’re here,” Ten’s voice is soft, almost a whisper, unlike his snarky remarks from not even two minutes ago, and it would give Sicheng whiplash if he wasn’t so used to both sides of him by now. “Let me make you feel good.” 

Sicheng lets Ten guide him to his bed, lets Ten pull him into his lap once he settles against the headboard. There is something really fucking crazy about this—about the way he is straddling Ten’s hips, the way Ten’s thighs are warm under his ass and his hands equally so as they roam over his body. 

He doesn’t think even his wildest dreams could ever come up with his. 

Ten cups his cheek his one hand and places the other on his hip, fingers playing with the hem of his underwear as he softly licks into his mouth. Sicheng tries to hold back his groans, though it seems pretty fruitless when Ten’s fingers slip in and start massaging his ass. 

“I want to eat you out,” Sicheng can’t get over how crude Ten can be, “is that okay for you?” 

“Yes,” he absolutely hates how whiny his voice comes out as, though he figures there isn’t much he can do when he can already feel himself getting harder in his underwear. “Please stop asking.” 

Ten smiles, pressing his lips to Sicheng's jaw. “Just wanna make sure you’re okay with me getting my mouth on your ass.” 

“I swear to _fucking god—”_

Sicheng nearly squeaks when Ten slides down the mattress and pushes him up, his hands instinctively flying out to hold onto the headboard for support. 

“Off,” Ten tugs at Sicheng's underwear, “and turn around.” Sicheng does as he is told, and when he settles back down, Ten taps gently on his thigh. “Sit on my face, gorgeous.” 

Sicheng is already so fucking hard between his legs. He nearly chokes on himself as he positions his body over Ten’s, as Ten’s hands come up to hold him by the hips to better guide him. He does a pretty terrible job on suppressing his whining when Ten’s tongue licks right under his ass and he bites on the skin. 

“Fuck—” it’s not that he is trying to be loud, but Ten doesn’t give him enough time to process what is happening before he is licking down and over his perineum, stimulating Sicheng until he loses his balance and holds himself on his thighs. This gives Sicheng a rather perfect view of his cock—hard and straining against his underwear, a wet patch on the fabric. 

Sicheng feels the world shift on its axis when Ten runs his tongue over his rim—feels like he is entering some kind of fucking alternate dimension where all this is just normal shit that should be happening. He has a really hard time to believe any of this is real—that Ten teasing his hole with the tip of his tongue is just supposed to happen in any timeline he could ever possibly live in. 

Yet here they are—Ten pushing his ass down on his face, licking him until Sicheng digs his nails into his thighs and _whines._ He can feel Ten smile against his ass, knows he must be having the time of his damn life by making Sicheng sound so embarrassing he can’t help but hang his head between his shoulders in mild shame. 

Ten leaves him wet, almost dripping, before he so much as teases the tip of his tongue past his rim. Sicheng moans, chest shaking with the force of it when he brings a hand down to massage his balls, thumb pressing against his perineum just as he pushes his tongue past the ring of muscle of his ass. 

Sicheng reaches down for his cock, skin buzzing when he holds himself by the base and tugs on a couple times. His body jerks with the feeling, Ten’s wet tongue lazily fucking his hole, hand fondling his balls. Ten moans loud when Sicheng sits back on his face, back arching off his bed as his free hand digs his nails into the skin of his hips. 

Sicheng is tempted to do it again, Ten’s noises going straight to his dick and making his vision spot white, so he does. There is more coordination to his movements this time and he groans when Ten moans again, thumb rubbing against the slit of his dick and smearing precum over the skin. Sicheng doesn’t think he is going to last. 

The way Ten pushes his tongue in and out of his hole makes him lose his fucking mind, his thighs shaking even when he has to do little effort to keep his body upright. He is loud in a way he didn’t know he could be, moans coming out in hiccups the longer Ten keeps licking him. 

The quickens the pace of his wrist when he feels the coiling in his stomach tighten, gasps when Ten’s hand wraps around his own and starts fisting his dick. It's too much and yet not enough, but then Ten is pulling his tongue away from his ass and licking down his perineum, licking warm over his balls and it's quite ridiculous how that is enough to send him over the edge. 

He cums over Ten’s chest and stomach, spills over their fingers as his body shakes, eyes tightly shut. Sicheng can feel his cock pulse in his hand, can feel Ten’s fingers wrap tighter around him as he moans against his skin. The vibrations of his moaning send a shiver up his spine and Sicheng shivers, body starting to overheat. 

“Ten,” he moans, weakly, letting go of his dick and grabbing Ten’s bedsheets. “Ten— _fuck_ _—_ ” 

“You’re pretty,” Ten says, voice hoarse, wrist still working on his dick. “So fucking gorgeous, you know that?” 

“Oh my god,” Sicheng’s voice is shaky, much like his body, overstimulation starting to hit him as Ten runs his thumb over the slit of his cock. “Shut _up._ ” 

Ten is unrelenting with his hand and his cock is starting to hurt, his balls so tight he starts tearing up. “Next time— if we do this again, I wanna know what you taste like.” He licks over his perineum again and Sicheng whines so loud his chest hurts. 

“ _Please,_ ” Sicheng can feel his lashes getting wet, knuckles going white as he twists the sheets in his fist. “Enough.” 

And Ten does stop, letting go of his dick and placing a soft kiss on his asscheek. Sicheng feels like his face, as well as his body, is on fire, skin so warm he can feel sweat sticking to his forehead. Ten gently shoves him until he is laying with his back on the mattress, chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath. 

Ten climbs on top of him, grin wide on his lips. “I’m gonna go run the shower,” a kiss, “then we can work on your reports. Sounds good?” 

“Yeah,” Sicheng says with a huff, “it does.” 

**Author's Note:**

> [twitter](http://twitter.com/10softbot) | [curiouscat](http://curiouscat.me/10softbot)


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